Nothing Else Matters
by Jazziet
Summary: Harry realizes that there is only, truly, one thing that matters.


Harry flew after the snitch with more adrenaline and vengeance than he ever had. There was no way he could lose this game; the hit it would take to his ego would be enormous. He could feel rather than see the Ravenclaw seeker on his tail but he paid him no mind. The snitch was there and he would have it. There was no way in hell he would lose to Goldstein. Not now. He leaned his body forward and could feel his speed increase slightly. A slow grin spread across his face as he stretched his hand forward and grasped the little golden ball. He then did a quick turn to distance himself from Goldstein and to lift his hand up so they could all see he'd caught the snitch. The cheering was tremendous and he flew down to the ground to be greeted by the rest of his team.

They all went to the locker room bathing in the glow of their win and he gave a speech about how well they all played. He had no clue what he was saying but judging by his teammates face, Ron's in particular, it did the trick.

He took his time taking a shower, a wide smug grin still on his face. Afterward, he took his time making his way to Gryffindor tower where he knew all the festivities would be held. Different people congratulated him along the way but there was only one person whose congratulations he wanted.

Entering through the Gryffindor portrait hole had him being lambasted with pats on the back and even a few hugs. A butterbeer had been shoved into his hands and he sipped casually, his eyes roving the room for his bushy-haired best friend. He began to frown when he realized she was nowhere in sight. He strode over to Ron who was doing a re-enactment of the game to Dean and Seamus.

"Where's Hermione?"

Ron's mirthful face was flushed and bright as he took a swig of his butterbeer before darkening at Harry's words.

"With Goldstein, I reckon. Probably wants to cheer him up after he lost," Harry's good mood disappeared instantly, "Glad you beat the wanker."

Dean glanced between them both with bemusement.

"Why do you guys hate Goldstein so much? He seems like a right chap to me."

Seamus laughed out loud at the scowls that adorned both of their faces at that.

"Come on Dean, ol' mate," Seamus placed a mocking arm around Dean's shoulder, "Surely you can see the reason for their animosity towards the 'Claw."

Dean just looked confused and Seamus laughed again.

"Ah, matey, the wee lass. A Ravenclaw has got his claws in their princess. I wasn't exactly happy about him dating Hermione either but you're right, he's a right chap."

Seamus wisely ignored the slightly betrayed looks that Ron and Harry were sending him.

"He's not a right chap and he sure as hell don't deserve Hermione!" Ron sputtered.

Dean just shrugged still looking a bit bewildered, "Yeah, but who does?"

After that Harry quietly left the party with his stomach in knots. He felt an irrational anger stemming in his veins. Hermione should have been there with him to hug him and tell him how proud of him she was. He'd gotten so used to her continual support over the years, her _attention_, that now that she had a boyfriend he didn't know how to react. He knew, logically, that he should be happy for her. He should be supportive. Despite what he _should_ feel his emotions were entirely in opposition. He hated the thought of her with Goldstein and if he were truly being honest with himself he hated the thought of her with anyone.

It was their seventh year and out of all of them Hermione had never really dated and Harry had been just fine with that. Her small dalliance with Krum in fourth year wasn't anything serious and the next two years in fighting and defeating Voldemort kept her busy enough that she never entertained any boy's interest which Harry was totally okay with. Sure, he and Ron had done their fair share of dating, especially after he'd defeated Voldemort but that was different. Hermione was...Hermione. There wasn't a boy in this entire school he felt was worthy of her attentions and certainly not _Anthony Goldstein_.

Harry missed the group of first years who skittered out of his way because of the scowl on his face. He didn't really see anything, so deep in his thoughts he was. _What exactly did Hermione see in that berk?_

If a member of the opposite sex had heard his train of thought they would have easily laid out exactly what a girl or any girl would see in the Ravenclaw seeker. Anthony Goldstein was Ravenclaw's answer to Hufflepuff's Diggory. He was handsome, intelligent, kind, and charming. He was Head Boy to Hermione's Head Girl and many younger students looked up to him as most did to Harry. Despite what Hermione's two best friends thought or felt Goldstein was known for treating Hermione like a princess, something which every witch in the castle thought was swoon-worthy. Harry chose to carefully ignore these attributes, though.

The thought of Goldstein's hands touching any part of Hermione's body made him want to hit someone. The image, which he'd been cursed to stumble upon once, of his mouth on hers had made him want to Avada him out of existence. His fists clenched at the thought and before he knew it he was outside by the lake and throwing an occasional stone in while catching a few glimpses of the giant squid.

He shouldn't feel this way. He really shouldn't. He just couldn't help it. He'd been a fool for far too long and lost the very thing he'd had no clue was everything to him. He'd played the field with practically any witch who'd thrown herself at him. He'd considered it his right of passage after all of the misery he'd had to endure through the years. Then, when he wasn't looking when he was focusing on whatever bimbo had been twittering on his arm Goldstein had swooped in like a thief and taken his Hermione.

When Hermione had asked to speak to he and Ron in an abandoned classroom he'd thought it was to give them another lecture over their new excessive lifestyles but she'd been nervous and could hardly look them in the eye. She was a Gryffindor though, and eventually she'd looked steadily at them both as she told them that she had begun dating the Head Boy and she hoped that they could all eventually be friends or, at the least, get along. This little meeting had shown him how perceptive and intelligent his Hermione was. Bringing them to a secluded classroom and implying she hoped they'd get along made perfect sense. Before her announcement Harry and Ron thought Goldstein was 'a right chap' but after their little meeting their opinions had changed drastically. Harry didn't bother analyzing why Ron was just as upset as he was since he had enough time analyzing himself, although, he had been much more vocal about it. Ron had exploded in that classroom while Harry had stared blankly at Hermione, hardly comprehending her words. Logically, he understood that Hermione would eventually date but Harry wasn't a logical creature. He was a Gryffindor through and through. He processed things emotionally and only in the ruins of his impulses did he begin to let logic seep in to to tell him different.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled over to a tree he could lean against. He was such an idiot. If he had a time turner he would go back and the moment when snake face crumpled to the ground he would have gone to her and let her know how he felt. Let her know that whenever he thought of the future everything and everyone was interchangeable but her. Let her know that it was her brown eyes he wanted to go to sleep to every night and wake up to in the morning. Let her know that no other girl had meant anything. Let her know that her smile lit up his soul. Let her know that he loved her and had loved her for years.

Every day it seemed Hermione and Goldstein's relationship grew more and more serious. The Ravenclaw was always gazing at her and she would always return his look with a shy smile. It was sickening.

"Sickle for your thoughts."

Harry's body stiffened at that soft lilt. He noticed his breath quicken but he kept his eyes glued to the lake and the setting sun.

"It's so beautiful, isn't it? I used to come out here and watch the sunset all the time. Sometimes if I got up early enough I'd catch the sunrise."

Harry still said nothing but he was certainly aware of her standing closely to him now. Her scent that was honey, jasmine, parchment, and ink wafted into his nostrils and he inhaled. He stiffened further when she leaned into him and hooked her left arm through his right.

"You were wonderful today, Harry, although, I'm sure you've heard that a thousand times already."

"It didn't matter," his voice came out a croak and he cleared it a bit nervously trying to ignore the tingles his body was experiencing from her contact.

She shifted her head a bit and he could feel those cinnamon eyes, those eyes that saw everything, penetrating.

"What didn't matter?"

"Everyone telling me how good I played."

He could see a wry grin split her lovely face out of the corner of his eye.

"I thought you loved every accolade you could get, Harry."

His irritation bubbled to the surface and he broke free of her embrace with more force than he'd intended and swerved around to stare at her. He nearly lost his composure at the startled look on her face and those plump lips parted in surprise.

"That's not who I am. You know who I am, Hermione."

All emotions were wiped from her face as they were wont to do since the weeks following the last battle and his sudden change.

"I used to know who you were, Harry. You were a gentleman and a gentle man. Then you became..."

She didn't finish her sentence and for that he was grateful. He didn't want to hear what she thought of him, how disgusted with him she must have been or still was. He was sure his heart might rupture from his chest if she did. Her opinion had always been the only one that mattered.

He swallowed the growing lump in his throat, "I made mistakes. You were right, I was becoming someone unrecognizable. Can't you see I've...I'm not...I'm not that person anymore."

There was a slight plea to his voice, he knew. He'd tried to disguise it but it came slithering out much like his parseltongue. After Voldemort's defeat he'd been drowning in sorrow sinking further and further into the abyss, indulging in anything that would make him _feel_ again. He'd seen what he'd become he just hadn't cared not until she'd shown him in her own subtle way something he had never thought possible. She'd shown him that it was possible that he could lose her that she wouldn't always be there, not while he continued to destroy and degrade himself. These last few months he'd been on a detox, so to speak. There had been no girls, no partying, no indulgences. He'd kept to himself and evaluated every aspect of his life and realized he hated what he'd become. Even more than hating himself he hated the disappointment in Hermione's eyes, the lingering sadness anytime she looked at him. He would much rather face Voldemort and all his death eater's again than to ever see that look on her face.

"I've noticed."

She was so quiet and the wind was rushing by and seemed to take her words with them but he heard them, nonetheless. For the first time in a long while, he felt the stirrings of hope in his chest building like the slowest crescendo.

"Then, why do you still keep yourself from me?"

Her visage became confused but he could see it there, under the surface, she knew exactly what he meant. But he would indulge her as she had indulged him.

"We see each other every day."

"That's not what I mean. You're with me but you're not _with_ me. You're closed off. I can feel it. It's like you have all of these walls up when I'm around. Like you don't trust me."

Her eyes flickered from his face to the setting sun behind him. She said nothing for a long while then as the wind blew she wrapped her arms around herself to stave off the chill and he wanted badly to pull her into his arms but he couldn't. Even if she allowed him to hold her she would have those damn walls up and it would be as if she wasn't there at all and then there was _Goldstein_.

"It hurts too much."

This time her words were a whisper and she looked back at him. He drew in a shaky breath at what he saw. She'd dropped her walls so that he could see the devastation he'd caused, the pain, the misery, and worst of all, the _heartache_. He could feel it. She was his and he was hers, after all. He could hardly breathe from the emotions she'd kept under lock and key for so long, hiding herself from him. Protecting herself.

He stepped closer so that there was hardly a breath between them. His heart was beating wildly in his chest like a drum and he could have sworn then that he could hear it.

"What hurts? Tell me."

She closed her eyes and did a subtle shake of her head.

"You already know. Watching you become that person was excruciating. I thought I was dying from the inside out," her eyes shot open to stare at him, "You were _killing_ me, Harry."

And he could see that he was, so immense was the pain in her eyes as if she'd known nothing else. He trembled under the weight of it all and reached up to brush away the stray tear that had escaped her watery eyes. His touch was feather light but he did not miss the shudder it sent through her body.

"I'm so sorry, love."

The endearment slipped through his lips like water through a stream and he wouldn't retract it for the world. Her head lowered then and her bushy mass of riotous curls fell over her face obscuring her from him.

"Don't hide from me, please," Merlin, he wanted to touch her more than he wanted his next breath, "I know I lost your trust, your faith. Is it possible...Can I have another chance? I want to be the man you deserve, Hermione."

Her head shot straight up and there was shock in her eyes. There was no other way to interpret what he said. The cat was out of the bag, so to speak. She would know. She would know now exactly how he felt about her. She could crush him if she wanted and he wouldn't blame her. She had every right too. This time he let _his_ walls down showing her exactly what she meant to him. She seemed to search his eyes for an eternity and seemed to grow more bewildered as time passed by.

"What are you saying?"

This was the time to truly be a Gryffindor and not just a Gryffindor a Potter, as well. His father had fought for his mother when he had absolutely no reason too, only hope that one day his affections would be returned.

"I love you, Hermione," she gasped and took a step back but he moved with her, anticipating her step, "I know that I don't deserve you and I never will but I want to at least try. You told me a while back that I was being selfish and you're right. I am selfish because I want you even though I don't deserve you. No one else matters but you. No one knows me but you. You've always seen the real me. All the good parts the ugly parts and you're still here. You're so loving and compassionate, Hermione, and if I were halfway decent I'd tell you stay far away from me, but I can't. I'm too selfish. I want you with me, through everything."

He felt like his words were garbled and he was terrified that he sounded like the biggest idiot but his befuddled mind could hardly form a coherent sentence. He took another step towards her and his chest was barely grazing her breast.

"You don't know what you're saying. You don't feel that way about me, Harry, you never have, and I'm with Anthony-"

His anger from earlier had found an opening to slither back in at her words, "Don't tell me I don't know what I'm saying and don't tell me how I feel," his words were nearly a growl in his throat, "I know exactly what I'm saying and as for how I feel about you," he paused to gain a bit of his composure, "I've been in love with you for as long as I've known you even if it took me a while to figure it out, it's how I feel, and I won't let anyone convince me otherwise. Not even you. And I don't give a flying fuck about _Goldstein_."

And just as people were wont to do when swimming in emotions so deep that it was fathomless they latched on to something less weighted to pull them to the surface, to breathe momentarily.

"Anthony is a good man."

"I don't give a fuck."

"Language, Harry!"

"Do you love him?"

She blinked rapidly before pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes at him, "That's none of your business."

He let out a cruel laugh that sounded more miserable than anything, "So, you don't."

"I never said that!"

"You never said you did either."

She took another step back but he stepped forward again not allowing her her own space lest she put up those damnable walls again.

"How I feel about Anthony is private."

"I'll ask it again. Do. You. Love. Him? I hate the bastard, Hermione. I loathe the sight of him but I fucking swear if you really love him I'll try to understand. I probably won't succeed and I'll be forever bitter for losing you but I'll at least try. For you. Tell me. _Please_."

She said nothing for a moment before a sadness took over her face.

"I love Anthony," he felt his insides splintering and shaking, being crushed and set on fire at those three words, "But I'm not _in_ love with him. How could I when I'm still in love with you?"

It took him a moment to register her words before he actually fell to the grassy floor and began to sob. He felt her lower herself in front of him but she did not touch him and he understood. Things were too raw, too real. If she touched him or he her they would not have the strength to contain or restrain themselves. They would damn themselves further than they already were.

He shook his head not capable of looking her in the eye just then, "I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that."

"It's true," he whispered.

It was a long while until his tears subsided and he could tell that the sun had finally fallen beyond the horizon.

"How did we end up here, Harry, hurting each other and miserable?" she paused and he still did not lift his head, "Ron thinks he has feelings for me. I know he doesn't but he's hung on to the idea for so long he doesn't want to let it go."

There it was. The other problem he had not wanted to acknowledge, had refused to acknowledge. He finally lifted his tear-streaked face and was caught in her beauty once more. The way the moon shown down on her, as if it was just for her, took his breath away.

"Are you saying Ron is our only obstacle?"

She shook her head and her curls swayed too and fro mesmerizing him.

"I know how much his friendship means to you, how much the Weasleys mean to you. You'd lose them for a time, Harry, probably forever."

Despite the morbidity of her words, he could only find joy. She was saying she would give it all up for him just as she had before. He was a selfish bastard to want her too but he would give it all up for her, as well. He'd give his life for her if that's what she wanted.

"I don't care."

She shook her head again, "You say that now but-"

"Didn't I just tell you earlier not to tell me how I feel?" there was a sternness to his voice that made her watch him intently, "I had some growing up to do and I went about it foolishly but I don't change my emotions on a whim. Nothing else matters. Do you understand? _Nothing_ _else_ _matters_."

"Then I should go," she rose up and dusted the debris from the ground from her skirt but he caught the trembling in her hands.

He rose as well wanting to reach for her. Touch her. Kiss her. Breathe her.

"You're leaving?"

She nodded, "I need to speak with Anthony."

As much as the thought of her being alone with the Ravenclaw still irked him it was without anger now. Goldstein was no threat and now he realized he never had been. She turned to go and his words stopped her.

"I promise from this day forward I'll strive every day to be the man you deserve, Hermione Granger," in his heart he added, 'soon to be Mrs. Potter'.

She angled her head towards him and he saw a small smile twisting her luscious lips.

"You already are, Harry."

With that, she turned and walked away. He followed her petite form until it disappeared into the castle yards away. His gaze was wistful yet resolute because nothing else mattered.


End file.
